


Bitters and Sugar

by TeaAndATale



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bar Meeting, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndATale/pseuds/TeaAndATale
Summary: Peggy knew this was a stupid idea and should have just stayed home. But then sometimes life presents a little sweetness to soothe the sting of a bad night out.





	Bitters and Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dorrinverrakai1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorrinverrakai1/gifts).



> Yes I promise I am still working on all my WIPs and yes I did plan to work on those instead of finishing up this cheesy one shot.  
> However, @dorrinverrakai1 needed a fluffy Steggy fix tonight. Hope this fills your need even a pinch. Enjoy my friend. Cheers

  _ **Bitters and Sugar**_

_*_  
_1 ½ oz Bourbon or Rye Whiskey_  
_2 Dashes of Angostura bitters_  
_1 Dash of plain water_  
_1 Sugar Cube_  
_1 Orange slice to garnish_  
_*_

 

She picks up her phone for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, tapping at it expectantly. But there are no messages. Peggy sighs, shakes her head and peruses the menu once again before giving up on politely waiting to order and chooses an Old Fashioned.

She finds comfort in the sharp taste of the bourbon despite the slow going of the bartender to make her drink. The bar is filled but not exactly crowded, definitely not crowded enough as she would expect for a Saturday night. Which apparently made her an easy target, visibly sitting alone at the bar.

“You alright there sweetie?” she hears from her right.

Peggy cocks her head and glares at a lanky, tall guy with a cocky grin and a jutting chin. He’s swishing his glass of beer and leering with a determined smirk. Already annoyed with her situation, she finds this question, particularly the tone, astonishingly irritating.

“First of all do not call me sweetie, you plonker. Second of all, I’m not interested. Good night.”

She clenches her jaw and turns back to her drink and her phone. The interloper disappears so she figures she made her point.

A crowd of girls, a bachelorette party’s first stop of the night, talks rapidly in buzzed sentences to the right. She tries to follow the thread of discussion, some kind of unfolding tryst between the best man and the maid of honor, however the maid of honor then decides that it’s the right time to tell the bride-to-be that she made out with her fiancé when they had started dating. The amusing party turns into too much tipsy drama for her to enjoy anymore as there are tears and hair pulling. The careless bartender leans in to the ensuing kerfuffle.

She sighs, picks up her phone again and taps out a message.

Are you close?

She stares for a while at the screen, but no response comes. She tries to relax. Sure, this wasn’t exactly the way she had wanted to spend her night, but she was young and surely she needed a change in her routine. Though admittedly, she found nothing wrong with her predilection for coming home from long days at work to a glass of wine, a book and her bed.

But she was already out and about, so she wanted to try to make the best of the situation. She turns away from the now disastrous bachelorette party and takes a gander around the expansive space. Apart from the drunk bridal party, there was only one other person to her left, the rest of the stools empty. The rest of the patrons were at the booths and high-top tables dispersed closer to the opposite wall. Peggy enjoys the people watching aspect, taking stock of all the different groups present, all different, though a bit too young for her taste, too many immature fraternity brothers pounding beers and leering at every woman in sight.

The people watching comes to bite her in the ass. She accidentally makes eye contact with her previous admirer, and even though she immediately turns her head his foul grin is back and he’s headed right back over to her.

“Dear lord,” she mutters under her breath. She must have said it louder than she thought because it makes the guy to her left startle.

Peggy makes a show of picking up her phone, pretending she was intently texting, despite the fact that she hasn’t had a single message in the last hour.

“Hey babe. Ready for a drink?” she hears the interloper’s voice say this time.

Peggy rolls her eyes. “I have a drink and I am not your babe. And let me reiterate slowly for you, I am not interested.”

Before he can respond she swings back around facing the bar intently, picking up her phone, tapping at it and putting it up to her ear.

She gets voicemail.

“Hey it’s me. Just wanted to check if you were on your way. I’m waiting at the bar. Call me when you get this.”

She curses under her breath and sets her phone down again. Five minutes. She’ll give it another five minutes before she decides what to do to salvage her night.

She hates this bar. She hates the inattentive bartender who she’s been trying to flag down for a water and potentially a second drink given how her night is going. She hates the people here she thinks as she observes a crowd of men in business casual dress screaming and slamming their glasses down on the tabletop, beer spilling everywhere. Peggy shakes her head, her finger tapping at the bar impatiently. And she hates the stupid music. They keep playing the same generic boring pop hit over and over and it’s driving her bonkers. She cannot believe she gave up her peaceful night for this. That she got all dressed up for this.

She hears a loud guffaw of a laugh escape the man sitting next to her, so loud and unexpected she looks over at him properly for the first time. He’s not looking at his phone like she had expected, he’s looking over his shoulder, and she follows his bright blue eyes. Her jaw clenches.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she hears the blue-eyed guy say to the interloper before she can speak herself. “Just for the record, when she kicks your ass for not leaving her alone after having clearly told you no twice, I am not going to help you out buddy.”

Peggy is dumbfounded by this guy’s response. She’s not the only one, since apparently her unwanted admirer doesn’t take well to being laughed at. He ignores her neighbor and reaches out for her. Peggy narrows her eyes, and in a flash grabs his wrist before he so much as brushes her skin and twists. Hard.

“What the fuck bitch!”

“I. Am. Not. Interested,” she says between clenched teeth. “Stay away from me or I promise me it’s not your wrist you’re going to be worried about.”

Her neighbor lets out another amused laugh.

“Fucking bitch,” he says again.

Peggy rolls her eyes unphased, but apparently her neighbor isn’t so used to hearing that being used to describe her on a day-to-day basis by every executive below, on and above her level at work.

“Don’t call her that again,” he says in a deep voice that Peggy feels all the way in her stomach. He rose from his stool, standing tall, towering over the guy. “If you harass anyone else in here in front of me you are going to regret it. Now get out of here you punk.” He glares after the guy who flips him off before turning away. “Asshole.”

It makes Peggy snort. Their eyes meet and they grin at each other. He’s attractive. Really attractive. And has a broader build than she realized when he was hunched over the bar earlier.

“How were you so sure I’d kick his ass?” she finds herself asking.

He grins sheepishly. “I recognized the look in your eyes. Anyway, you seemed upset enough as it was so he had it coming.”

Peggy huffs out a breath. “Yes well, I don’t fancy being stood up when it wasn’t my idea to go out tonight.”

His features soften and she finds herself drawn to the subtle downward pull to his lips. And just his lips in general if she was being honest with herself.

“I’m sorry.” There’s such a genuine softness to his voice.

Peggy shrugs, tosses her hair over her shoulder and lets out a huff.

“What’s up with this place anyway? It’s awful. They keep playing the dumb song over and over again.”

He laughs. “I don’t think it’s the same song. Just different ones that sound exactly the same.”

“Oh great. Seriously. The service sucks. The ambience sucks. Why did anyone decide this was the hot spot?”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure. It’s my first time here too. Wasn’t my choice.”

“No? You’re here with friends?”

“Uh not exactly. There was a work mixer thing. They have one every week. My best friend thought it might be a good idea for me to at least change it up and pretend that I can stand their antics for a night since we work together. Oh by the way, they’re the group right there that you groaned at when they started screaming about their fantasy football teams.”

Peggy groans by instinct.

“See?” he says with a grin.

She smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be negative tonight. I just had actually expected this night to be even a little fun. The only saving grace is that this Old Fashioned has very good bourbon in it.” She lifts her empty glass in emphasis.

“A bourbon lady huh? Very classic drink.”

“Whiskey really. I’m a whiskey girl at heart. Though I appreciate real American bourbon,” she emphasizes with a teasing tone.

He lifts his own glass. “Jameson for me. The lime twist thing going on in this drink was actually a tasty surprise.”

“Alright so above average drinks, we’ll give them that.” She grins. “I’d order another if this bartender wasn’t so wrapped up flirting with the whole bachelorette party over that.”

He slides his own empty drink away from himself and nods.

“You’d think he’d realize that the one he’s giving the most attention to is getting married tomorrow.”

There’s a loud crash behind them followed by whooping noises. He turns and raises his eyebrows.

“Wow, I’m shocked that wasn’t the guys from work,” he notes dryly.

Peggy gives him an amused smile. “You said they have mixers every week? Just a bonding thing or is it to celebrate business related successes?”

“Both I guess. Mostly they just go out every night from Thursday to Sunday,” he says. “Though I guess this week there’s an actual reason to celebrate. I work at a large media and advertising company. We brought in a huge client this week. It’s actually a pretty exciting undertaking.”

“Congratulations!”

He smiles and blushes a little which she finds very appealing. “Thank you. Though it would have been nice if they had extended the invite to the entire team. As you can see it’s a little testosterone heavy tonight.”

“Yes, I did notice. Do you enjoy your work?”

“Parts of it yes. I’m still technically a designer but we had some internal changes in the last few months, so I was asked to take on more client-facing roles. It’s interesting and I like working ideas out with customer’s, but mostly I like making stuff.”

“So you’re an artist.” He shrugs and the blush deepens. The doodling he had done on his napkins now had great meaner.

“Do you like your job?” He asks.

Peggy nods. “Most of it yes. I’m a lawyer. So it’s long hours and lots of paperwork. But the firm I work for does a lot of pro bono work. They’ve done a lot with the ACLU which I want to do more of in my career so I’ve volunteered a lot of hours.”

“That’s awesome!”

She tucks her hair behind her ear, a little taken aback by his genuine and unabashed enthusiasm.

There’s another crash behind them, and this time there’s a guy standing on his stool ripping his shirt open and howling up at an imaginary moon.

Her neighbor covers his eyes and groans. “That’s our Lead Project Executive. What a moron.” He shakes his head when the whooping crowd seems to be inspired by the display and joins in. “You’re right this place sucks,” he agrees. “Not even the alcohol can save it.”

Peggy takes a look at her phone and at the blank screen that only tells her that she’s now been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes she sighs loudly.

“I suppose it’s time I call this night a bust.”

“We could…” He hesitates. “We could still try not to let this dumb bar ruin the whole night.”

“Oh?”

“There’s a place that I like a few blocks over. It’s not exactly this kind of hot spot but it is fun.”

“Oh so you mean it’s the opposite of this overrated money pit? Sounds great.”

He grins. “And there’s always live music or a DJ there. And good drinks.”

“You… Don’t you have stay? If you’re here for work?”

He snorts. “They won’t notice. And none of them will remember on Monday anyway.”

Peggy bites her lip and takes a long look at his face. There’s something kind and unassuming in his expression. And he’s clearly not pushing. Nor does he think she’s a push over. And she suddenly doesn’t want to go home. Not if she could look at his smile a little longer.

“Lead the way.”

He opens doorways for her as he leads her downstairs and down to the street.

“Oh! I just realized I never even asked your name,” she says, interrupting their easy chatter about other bad night out experiences they’ve had.

He looks over at her with a soft smile. “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers,” he says and hold out one of his hands for her to shake.

The old-fashioned gesture makes her smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve Rogers. I’m Peggy Carter.”

They smile at each other under the streetlights and continue walking, continuing their easy conversation. Steve leads her through a doorway and past a bouncer into a dimly lit bar. The first thing she notices is not the sound of the thumping bass echoing through the room from the DJ set up on the small stage in the far corner. It’s the symphony of pings and clicks coming from the row of pinball machines, paired with exacting crack of pool cues.

“It’s a little dorky I know but trust me this place has character. You just gotta give it a chance.”

He sounds so sweet and earnest she cannot help but smile at him.

“Lead on.”

He slides a bill into the token machine before taking her on a quick tour of the place, stopping at the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Steve and waves before promising to be right over.

“Can I get you a drink? Another Old Fashioned? A whiskey? Or something else?”

Peggy shakes her head. “You got the tokens so this round is on me.”

He doesn’t seem totally convinced but as they order, a mixed whiskey drink with orange peel garnish for her and a craft beer for him, she slides over her card quickly to settle the tab. Steve slams down a few bills for the tip and when she arches her brow at him he only grins.

“Cheers,” she says tapping his glass to hers.

“Cheers.”

“So what do you suggest we play?”

He scouts out the room and points to an empty table. “Air hockey. It’s a good competitive warm up,” he says with enough of a teasing grin that it feels like a challenge she needs to meet head on.

“Game on Steve!”

She likes his boyish grin as he puts in the tokens at the table hisses to life. He sets the neon yellow puck down in the center and before he can react she slams her paddle into it. He just barely blocks it, laughing as she groans at her foiled play.

“Oh you’re on.” His eyes narrow as he focuses, leaning forward and making a show of lining up his shot. It makes Peggy giggle. Apparently he can hear it over the music because he pauses and looks up at her, his features relaxing into an easy smile. There’s something in the softness that makes her notice her heart patter at a quicker pace.

He wins the first game. By a lot. He pumps his fist in the air in victory, but there’s no cocky bravado. He smiles and cheers her on for a good game.

“Rematch,” she says, taking a long sip of her drink, cracking her neck followed by her knuckles.

Steve followed suit, swinging his arms dramatically around as a warm up.

Three intense games full of giggles later they are tied two-to-two and finally give up the table to a couple sheepishly asking if they could have a turn.

Peggy points to the Pac Man game and Steve cheerfully slides in the tokens as they chase down ghosts and cherries on the screen. They move from game to game giggling at their wins and losses, chatting about work, friends and New York City all the while.

“So you’ve come here a lot?” she asks him once they wander over to a high-top table to sip properly at their drinks.

Steve shrugs. “Once in a while. My friend used to bartend here which is how I discovered it. And I loved that they have old pinball machines. My dad used to take me to the arcade when I was a kid before he died. Pinball was his favorite. He taught me to play. I know it’s pretty dorky, but it reminded me of being a kid again so I started coming once in a while to escape the real world for a little while.”

“What was your favorite one to play?

“When I was a kid? Definitely the Wizard of Oz pinball machine at the old arcade my dad took me too in Brooklyn.”

“And here?”

“I circle a few. The Addams Family one is a favorite.

She smiles. “Well come on Pinball Wizard. Show me how it’s done.”

He picks a random open machine and begins to explain how and when to use the paddles. Though admittedly, she doesn’t find pinball the most exciting of games, she enjoys listening to him explain technique and the history of how it was once illegal to play in most cities. She notices that he gets animated, hands and eyebrows particularly expressive, when he’s talking about something he enjoys. She finds that though she doesn’t necessarily understand the interest in pinball, she knows that she already enjoys seeing excitement on his face. She likes sharing in his enjoyment. She likes watching him smile. And when he finally turns the table over to her, she may play dumb a little more than strictly necessary, enjoying the way his hands guide hers and the close proximity of their bodies.

He’s sweet and she hasn’t had this kind of light hearted fun in ages. She likes the laughter that floats through the bar, pure silly giggles over a shared game. It’s soothing in a way that the other bar’s atmosphere was not. The bargoers are all easygoing, easily shaking off losses as well as celebrating the wins of strangers. There’s none of the pretension here that existed in the bar she sat in earlier.

When the clock strikes midnight, the DJ switches to a new theme of music, loud synth-filled eighties pop music filling the room.

“I love this song!” they both cry out at the same time.

The whole bar seems to cheer and stop their playing to sing along, Steve and Peggy included.

Her drink sloshes over the rim as she bounces along to the music.

“Oops,” she giggles, shaking the whiskey off her hands and trying to wipe at the wet spots on her dress. When she looks up he’s smiling at her so intensely she can see it make his eyes sparkle. She bites her lip fighting the instinct to reach out and touch him. “Do you mind holding my drink while I head to the restroom to freshen up?”

“Of course!”

She grins at him, keeping her eyes on him under she turns the corner to the hallway out back to the ladies’ room. After she assesses the damage, thank goodness it’s a black dress, what she notices more than anything is her reflection in the mirror grinning back. She can’t remember the last time she had a carefree splitting smile on her face.

When she returns, not only is Steve still waiting for her at a high-top table, but he’s replaced their drinks, a pair of matching Old Fashioned glasses, and there’s a plate sitting between them.

“I was feeling snackish,” he says with a grin, pushing the plate towards her.

Peggy grabs one of the mozzarella sticks.

“Oh this is so good,” she sighs in appreciation.

She asks about his work, perusing the photos he shows her of some of his work. She learns he does everything from simple logos for companies, to complete art spreads for advertisements and promotional media. He in turn asks her about her work, about the human rights campaigns she hopes to donate her skills and time to.

They return to their air hockey table after a while, and the previously started competition only heightens. They’re pretty evenly matched, and it makes the games so intense they even garner a bit of an audience. She’s been on a streak, sinking in five shots in a row. Peggy clapped her hands above her head, taunting him as her score climbed. But then her luck runs out, Steve turning the tables on her, sinking in ten shots she fails to block.

“Oh you are so on Rogers! Rematch!” she shouts when he wins with ease.

He laughs and shrugs, sliding in the next round of tokens. Peggy sets her drink away, and pulls her hair back, her eyes fixed in concentration. She was not going to lose another game. They are neck and neck the entire game. It’s tied thirteen to thirteen and Peggy has never been so frustrated or determined. As Steve aims, she laser focuses her attention, making such direct hit with the puck that it makes a shocking cracking noise. To her horror, the puck flies off the table and smacks Steve in the forehead. She can hear the thwack over the noisy bar. The spectators break out into laughter, but Peggy claps her hand over her mouth. She rounds the table too quickly, catching the corner of the table making her tumble, Steve reaching to steady her.

“Oh my god Steve!” she cries out. He frees his hands from her waist and touches his forehead. “I am so sorry! I didn’t… Oh my god. Are you okay?”

She moves his hand away with her own, feeling for a bump, her eyes wide.

Steve breaks out into laughter. “I’ve never seen anyone so intense about air hockey,” he says between snorts.

“I am so sorry Steve!”

He’s still laughing. “Are you kidding? That was hilarious Peggy.”

He’s laughing so earnestly that finally her own laughter joins his. Their game ends there, Peggy refusing to let them continue playing until she’s certain he doesn’t have a concussion or something, her fingers gently running across his forehead.

“Peggy I’m fine, I swear. It was just a piece of plastic.”

“That I hurled at you like it was a weapon.”

“Yes well I can see you’ve got an impressive competitive spirit. I sure wouldn’t want to be up against you in court.”

“It’s embarrassing Steve! I can’t believe I got amped up over beating you in air hockey!”

“Which you haven’t done yet,” he teases. “Officially we’re tied.”

She smiles sheepishly. “I think I’m okay with that for tonight.”

He grins back and they decide to step outside for some fresh air. It’s only then that Peggy realizes that it’s almost two in the morning and that she hasn’t checked her phone in hours. There’s a barrage of texts, a missed call and a voicemail.

She excuses herself from Steve for a moment to listen to it, already rolling her eyes before she hears it’s content, though her frustration has long since ebbed away. She snorts at the message and looks up to see Steve watching her carefully.

You still owe me big, Peggy types out quickly before returning her attention to the beautiful man in front of her.

“What a jerk,” she says dramatically with no bite.

“Everything okay?” he asks tentatively.

“Just fine.” She smiles at him. “You know, for someone who admittedly hasn’t been out on the town very much in quite a while and had planned to be curled up in bed by midnight tonight, I have to say I’m not feeling very tired. I think our heated air hockey tournament was quite energizing.”

He chuckles.

“Hey Peggy?” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know it ruined your night and your mood, and it’s such an asshole move that your date stood you up at that bar, and I’m really sorry about that, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. But I am kind of glad he did stand you up because I’ve had a lot of fun meeting you tonight.”

A lightbulb flashes above her head.

“I—Oh. Wait, you thought I got stood up on a date? Steve, it was my friend Angie that stood me up. It was supposed to be a girls’ night out that she cooked up for my benefit, only to apparently have met some cute actor at her acting class that distracted her so thoroughly she forgot about me entirely. Apparently they got sucked into reenacting scenes from Mamma Mia or something like that, she didn’t leave a completely coherent message.” Steve eyes her blankly. “She’s auditioning for it,” Peggy adds. “The musical?”

“Yeah, right the musical.” He shakes his head “I—What? You weren’t on a date?”

“Well that depends on how you look at it,” she says with a smile. “I hadn’t planned on one, but sometimes life is funny. I sort of ended up on one.”

The stark continued confusion in his expression she can’t help but find adorable, making her giggle. She glances meaningfully at him and presses her hand to his arm.

“Oh. Oh!” He turns a bright pink but his smile returns. “So you’re not mad at her then? For ditching you?”

“Oh no I’m still pissed as hell at her for not even texting me back. However, she is lucky that I happened to have met a very lovely guy that I don’t want to say goodnight to just yet.”

His pretty blush deepens and the urge she had to touch him earlier wins out. Peggy reaches out for his hand, a safer spot than the blush that’s been creeping towards his neck.

“Maybe I could walk you home?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that shoots right through her.

“Yes,” she agrees readily. “We definitely need to discuss our rematch. Any maybe dinner?”

Steve grins and squeezes her hand tightly before lifting it up his lips. “You got it.”

She kisses him for real on her doorstep, tasting at the mixed remnants of bitters and sugar as their mouths meet in haste.


End file.
